I do not love shopping but my awesome daughter is taking me [us] on a cruise this fall so… I shopped. I do love bargains so the experience was almost enjoyable.
I don’t like trying on clothes either so I grabbed a few things off the rack and hurried home. The husband thought it would be wise to make sure the clothes fit before we set sail. He’s practical like that.
So the amateur model show began…
Yay! It fits well enough and isn’t this a cute little hat?
Double yay! Another excellent guess on size err-um.
By the third change the excitement was waning and so was my patience.
“Have you considered some makeup and accessories?” the husband smirked.
“Have you considered kissing my backside?” I replied through a stress-clenched jaw.
“How about something with a little more color? Maybe some shoes and a pedicure for those garden toes?” he laughed.
Strange, this man can’t recall a conversation from last night but anything over two years ago is clear as a bell.
“Lord have mercy sweet baby Jesus!” I grumbled.
“What’s wrong ?”
“I look like a red waffle cone topped with peach ice-cream and you’ve got my feet at war with one another! ”
“Calm down old woman you look good to me.” (That is his favorite go-to line.)
After I changed back into my ‘don’t give a poo’ daily wear and relaxed I asked the husband if he had been shopping – if he had planned his wardrobe.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” He says, “It’s a cruise — cruises are for relaxing.”
“You’re right dear.” Sigh. “Clothes are so overrated. I’ll pack a swim suit and pajamas.”
Life is crazy, people are crazier and my family… well they get the crazy award if there is one.
Me: Something has come up and I have to go to Mexico.
Husband: What happened? Who do we know in Mexico?
Me: Our youngest daughter.
Husband: She is not in Mexico.
Me: But she will be.
Husband: Why is she going to Mexico?
Me: She has a week off and she needs to stamp her passport.
Husband: Well that makes all kinds of sense. Why didn’t you just say you are going on another vacation?
Me: I didn’t want to sound too frivolous.
Husband: You just got back from vacation, how’s that for frivolous.
Me: That was a road trip, it didn’t require a passport.
Husband: My lord old woman! How much is this going to set me back?
Me: A grand or two. Depends on whether you want a souvenir or not.
Husband: How much is a souvenir?
Me: I don’t know. That’s another reason I have got to get there – to find out.
Husband: Hmm. What part of Mexico are we talking about?
Me: Puerto Vallarta.
Husband: Why not Cozumel or Cabo?
Me: They are too Americanized.
Husband: And Puerto Vallarta isn’t?
Me: Not as much, I hear. If you insist, I could go to Cabo and Cozumel but I would need more time and money.
Husband: If you’re going to stay on the Pacific, I like Huatulco. I bet it has changed a lot since we took the kids – that was what, twenty years ago?
Me: Twenty-one I believe.
Husband: The Cancun beaches were nice… wasn’t there a hotel at Chitchen Itza? She hasn’t seen the Mayan ruins there, has she? I wonder how far they’ve come with the reconstruction.
Me: Goodness man! If you want me to go to Cancun, Chitchen Itza, Huatulco, Cabo, Cozumel and Puerto Vallarta I will be gone for a month or more – Her vacation is only one week. I would have to go alone and I would miss you terribly, wouldn’t you miss me?
Husband: Of course I would. Yeah, you should come on home when baby girl’s vacation is over. I guess you’ll need a manicure, a pedicure, new clothes and a hair coloring?
Me: Nope. I’m going au’ naturel and wearing my every-day clothes.
Husband: You’re not going to cover up all that gray hair? What about those garden toes—you know the last pedicure you got they made fun of your beat up old feet.
Me: Oh, shut up and mix your drink.
Husband: Ahh, that was funny, “you have a garden, yes?” I can’t believe you plopped those mud stained number nines in front of that poor fella. With all of your calluses and cracks — no wonder it took him an hour. You couldn’t pay me to do his job. Who are you calling? Are you calling the beauty shop?
Me: No, I am calling my travel agent.
Husband: Oh, come on. I was just picking at you. Are you going to cancel your trip?
Me: Au contraire monsieur, I am going to extend my itinerary to include all of the places you suggested.
Husband: Salt water and sand do work miracles. You better keep those feet in the water as much as you can.
I am not a numerology freak by any means but I do find the theory fascinating at times. Coincidental? Maybe. Wishful thinking or superstition? Idk. When it’s good news I [like anyone else] want to believe it. When it is doom and gloom I tend to say ah phooey! Today the numbers 1 and 2 have occurred repeatedly, the digits of the day so to speak.
Bad thing (ah phooey) I got a speeding ticket at 11:12 am heading home from the gulf coast.The officer’s ID was 12
Good thing for a new indie in my opinion (yee-haw) according to my August stats sales for Amazon USA 222 copies of Between the Rage and Grace had sold.
Sunrise over South Texas as we began our journey northward home.
I know many other numbers flashed before my eyes as we made our way home but oddly it was the numbers 1 and 2 that caught my eye.
If it means anything at all … maybe it is the Yin and Yang.
Maybe the moral of this story is slow down, pace yourself, it’s gonna be okay.
I made enough money to pay for my speeding ticket and life is still good 🙂
Pursuing characters under the guise of vacation? Maybe yes.
In case I haven’t already said it 1001 times I recently returned from a coastal vacation traversing the southern end of the Gulf of Mexico USA. I say it’s the western end and
Honey my husband usually corrects me. It was our Spring break – just me and the husband because the children are all [WAY] grown. It was a celebration for me after finishing the latest book Unjustified Favor and definitely a needed break for him. He still has a real job where he has to punch a time clock and deal with irrational people expecting miracles. I’m constantly amazed at how freaking genius he is and no that is not sarcasm. Sometimes he’s an asshole – that isn’t sarcasm either. He’s a tool and die maker. Well I think his title is something like plant engineer/CNC programmer now because the hands on making of tools and dies is a dead dying art. Anywho I didn’t know the trade required such intelligence until our youngest daughter was taking physics in college and he loaned her one of his antique text books.
Okay, I just digressed so far I forgot the reason for this post…
Oh! Self analysis and we were traversing the Gulf of Mexico. For those who haven’t read Between the Rage and Grace or Behind the Rage the setting is southern with the characters hailing from Mississippi to Texas. The third book in this series (due to release this month) has them settled into the south/southwest Texas regions. So we were soaking up the sunshine, enjoying our drinks and marveling at the sky when it occurred to me… I was constantly looking for Linda, wanting to check in on poor Clara, worried someone might find Maggie and thought I saw Levi and Mary in a heated discussion on the beach. Upon closer examination I realized it wasn’t them. I’m gonna post a picture of that delusion. And once I thought I saw the nasty ghost of XXXX but it was just an old drunk passed out beneath a palm tree, whew!
So, I know the characters were born of experience but Freud might go so far as to say I am delusional or that I have such a deep attachment that I went in search of these fictional characters. Is that true? Maybe yes, but Freud was a coke-head.
Strangers on the Beach by Janna Hill
At this moment I can’t think of any place I’d rather be than on a beach reading a book. With my toes dug into the sand, listening to the waves, soaking up the sun and escaping to another world via words. While I am happy to hear someone is lazing beneath the laughing gulls and reading my books I can’t help but feel a tad jealous. It’s my own fault I don’t set aside the time but I’m going to remedy that by golly. Starting right now I’m off to find me a good book, a bottle of sunscreen SPF 50 and an excuse to head to the coast. I do have a new boogie board – that sounds like a pretty good excuse to me.